


Intro

by silver_and_rose



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Original Character(s), nonfandom - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 16:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9245276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silver_and_rose/pseuds/silver_and_rose
Summary: This is the beginning of what I hope becomes something resembling a novel. It is not part of a fandom, but I hope a couple people find it and give any feedback they have. I will post more as I write it, not necessarily in complete and finished chapters.





	

Long ago, in a quiet little town, a sweet young lady started a quiet little bookstore. As time passed, the young lady tended to her growing collection of books. Every now and then a new face would come in and browse for a while. Under the searching, almost hopeful, watch of the young lady, each new face left before making a purchase.  
Years passed slowly and as the young lady aged, her collection became more impressive, but not much larger. The surrounding town didn’t speak much of the quiet lady who owned the bookstore. In their opinion there wasn't much to say. Some wondered how she stayed in business all these years, but thoughts like those never lasted long.

The young lady is no longer young, but her arthritic hands still dust off the spine of each of her beloved books. A long flowing sari made of a new color everyday swallows up her thin frame. Her hair, a dull grey with one streak of jet black, lays in one thick braid down her back. Her name, forgotten by those few who knew it in the first place. Those who speak to her call her Awa.   
Very few people even enter her bookstore now, but the shelves are still full of beautifully bound spines. Awa still keeps an eye on the few that come in to look around, but there is little hope in her eyes now. She’s stopped watching everyone so closely, until an unusually stormy August day rolls around.

That day, Awa opens her eyes to a feeling she hasn't felt in years. Excitement. Today’s the day, she thinks, Oh what to wear, what to wear. She pulls an emerald green sari from her closet and considers it. She dons the sari with newfound excitement and heads downstairs to open the store. Awa goes through her morning routine, then takes her place behind the counter, waiting.  
Its not until late in the afternoon that some kids come through the door, the harsh wind and freezing rain encouraging them to find shelter on their way home from school. They stand in the doorway, shaking off the rain the best they can. Awa watches them, a book forgotten in her hands.


End file.
